


Ian, Interrupted

by SpacedOut



Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Bipolar Disorder, Bottom Ian Gallagher, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Illness, Mickey Uses His Words, Set after Season 4, Sex, Smut, Top Mickey Milkovich, cute nicknames, episode styled fic, first I love you, mickey does everything the hard way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1498342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpacedOut/pseuds/SpacedOut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian is admitted into a psychiatric hospital. Mickey decides to join him.</p><p>NOTE: I wrote the first thousandish words on my tumblr as an answer to a prompt so you may recognize it. I had a lot of messages telling me to make this into an actual fic, so here's my finished product.</p><p> </p><p>(Title based off the book/movie Girl, Interrupted)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ian, Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Rated M for sex and offensive language. I use the language that gets used in any average episode of Shameless. Unbetad. Any typos are my own. 
> 
> PLEASE READ: Obviously writing characters with mental illness is difficult. I tried my best to write Ian and the psychiatric ward based off of my own personal knowledge and some research. I tried my best to keep everything as accurate as possible as to not offend anyone or give false information.

"Empty your pockets and take your coat off."

"Why the fuck…?" Mickey began to ask before the nurse interrupted him. She was used to visitors being uncooperative about the procedures during visiting hours.

The nurse sighed, “Because we have to be sure that you are not slipping anything to the patients… it’s nothing personal, just precautionary. I’ll take your coat.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and shrugged off his coat before handing it to the young nurse. He emptied his pockets and set 3 quarters, a pocket knife, a stick of gum, and a zig zag wrapper onto the counter in front of him. 

"Follow me."

The nurse led them down a white hallway, heels clicking on the tiled floor, with Mickey following behind. The joint reminded him of a prison, only much cleaner and with more windows. 

Many patients were passing by in the hallway, each one acting stranger than the one before. Some were laughing hysterically at nothing, others were shouting. One patient glared at Mickey as they passed by. Mickey tried to glare back, but decided it was no use.

For the first time in Mickey’s life, he felt truly uncomfortable. Mental illness was never something that he had to deal with. Nobody ever had the luxury of feeling “sad” when growing up in his neighborhood; they were too busy fighting, stealing, and trying to make a living with what they had.

"Before I let you enter the room I have to remind you that because Ian Gallagher is on suicide watch there are to be no paper clips, pins, needles, razors, or any other sharp objects allowed in the room with him. Also, during visitor hours we do not allow the door to be closed while you are visiting. However you can leave the door cracked for privacy. Do you have any questions before I let you see him?" the nurse asked.

Mickey’s heart sank, “Yeah, why the fuck is he on suicide watch?”

The nurse stopped at Ian’s door (room 235) and pulled out a key from her pocket before replying, “All of our patients are on suicide watch when they first arrive here. After about a week or so we allow them more freedoms once we trust that they wont hurt themselves or others.”

She unlocked the door and stepped in first before allowing Mickey in.

"Ian, your partner is here to see you. Is that okay?"

Mickey heard a mumbled “yes” coming from inside the room.

The nurse turned around and held the door open for Mickey, “Press this button on the wall if you will be needing anything,” the nurse said before leaving. 

Mickey shut the door, ignoring the hospital’s “stupid regulations.”

Ian was sitting on his bed, reading some army magazine.

"Partner?" Ian asked.

Mickey tried his best to smile, which was hard because Ian looked so pale and his eyes looked swollen from crying.

"I figured that if I could come out to my dad and an entire bar full of homophobes, then I can come out to anybody, right? Besides, the term ‘boyfriend’ makes me feel like a 13 year old girl."

Ian chuckled, but there was no sign of happiness on his face.

"You seem like you’re feeling better," Mickey noticed. The last time Mickey had seen him, he was carrying him to the car to take him to the hospital.

"They got me on 5 different pills right now. I’ll be a zombie in no time," Ian replied, setting down his magazine.

Mickey frowned. He remembers selling prescription drugs on the streets of Chicago that were meant for bipolar patients. Too much of that shit could really mess a person up. 

There was a long, silent pause. Mickey looked around the room. The room was as small as his cell in juvie, only this time there isn’t a silver toilet connected to a wall. The only window in the room was barred up. Mickey assumed that was because they didn’t want Ian jumping out a 5th story window to his death.

The image of Ian lying dead on the ground crossed his mind for a split second. It lingered long enough to make his heart pound. 

"Are you afraid of me?" Ian asked.

At that moment Mickey realized that he was standing by the door still, far away from the redhead. He quickly closed the gap by finding a seat at the end of Ian’s bed.  
Mickey sat down, facing Ian, “Of course I’m not afraid of you.”

"Well, you should be. According to the doctors, I’m fucking crazy, Mick. They said one moment I will be fine and the next minute I could be holding a knife to someone’s neck."

The memory of Ian holding a knife to Kenyatta’s neck a few weeks earlier flashed into Mickey’s mind. He remember the way Ian looked at Mandy’s boyfriend, eyes black with rage. Ian’s hands didn’t shake, not once.

"Hey, it’s nothing we can’t handle," Mickey replied quietly. He didn’t know what else to say, he felt lost.

Tears welled up in Ian’s eyes, “You’re not going to leave me, are you? I'll understand if you do…”

Mickey immediately grabbed Ian’s shoulders and pulled him in close. He held his grip firm, angry at the idea that Ian would even think that he would leave him.

"Ian, I will never leave you, you got that? Do you remember what I said to you at the Alibi the other night? Well, I meant it. You make me feel free. I can’t lose that… I can’t lose you," Mickey heard his voice shaking as he spoke. God could he get any gayer?

Ian studied Mickey’s face, “And what if I never get better?”

Mickey smiled, “Well, you’re talking to me. That’s a start. I thought before this I was going to have to change your name to ‘Mumbles’ permanently.”

Ian smiled back, then frowned. He thought about those last few days at Mickey’s house. It wasn’t even sadness that he had felt, just emptiness. It was a horrible feeling, especially because even with Mickey waking up at his side and offering him breakfast (his dream come true) he still felt so empty and alone. He vaguely remembered Mickey, Fiona, Lip, Carl, and Debbie dragging him out of the Milkovich house and to the hospital. He remembered Mickey holding him and crying the whole ride there, but after that everything just blurred together due to sleepiness.

Mickey caught Ian’s frown with his lips softly, reading his mind.  "Just don’t think about it, okay? The only way we’re going to get your ass out of this shit hole is if you listen to the doctors. Deal?" Mickey asked, pulling away so that he can cup Ian’s cheek. 

"Only if you promise that things stay the same between us. I don’t want you feeling sorry for me and acting like I’m some fragile thing that can be broken," Ian said looking up at Mickey’s eyes.

"Like I’ve ever been easy on you, tough guy," Mickey replied.

Ian grinned that wide, stupid grin he always does. Any other time Mickey would roll his eyes and try to hide a blush. This time, however, was different. Different not only because they were an “open” couple now, but also because it was a sign that his Ian was still there.

Before, back when he found Ian in a depressed state on his bed, he thought that Ian was gone forever. He thought he was never going to see him again.

"I’ve missed you," Mickey mumbled, feeling the words pass through his lips with the residual fear in his heart from the times before when he was still afraid of expressing his feelings out loud. It’s hard to believe that he came out of the closet to his Chicago neighborhood only a week ago.

“I’ve missed you too, Mick. I want to get out of here. I fucking hate it here. Doctor’s said I could be in here for months...” Ian said, pulling Mickey down on the bed so that his head was resting on the redhead’s chest.

Mickey held onto Ian as tight as he could without breaking the younger one’s ribs before kissing his stomach and resting his head there. 

Mickey tried lightening the mood, “If anyone here tries to steal your Jello, I’ll beat their ass for you.”

Ian rolled his eyes, clearly not in the mood for jokes. He let his hand fall into Mickey’s dark, slicked back hair.

Mickey was holding back tears. He did not like Ian being in this shit hole all by himself. It’s even worse hearing it from Ian. How the fuck is he supposed to get better if he is miserable staying in a psych ward?

_Unless.... Oh._

Mickey looked up at Ian, allowing the redhead to continue to play with his hair.

“What do people gotta do to get in a place like this, anyhow?” Mickey asked, trying to be casual.

“Well,” Ian began, eyeing Mickey suspiciously, “I’m bipolar so I guess that’s a good enough reason.”

Mickey shook his head, “What about everyone else? They can’t all be bipolar and shit.”

“Yesterday at this stupid emotional group thing this guy was telling me he was put here by his family after having a psychotic episode in public.”

Mickey nodded, deep in thought.

Ian noticed and held the older boy’s cheek with his hand, “Mickey...? What are you thinking about?”

Before Mickey could reply, the nurse walked in. 

“Visiting hours are over for today.”

Mickey rolled out of the small twin bed, ignoring the nurse. “I promise I will be back tomorrow.”

Ian rose from the bed and smiled, pulling Mickey into a hug.

Mickey still hugged him stiffly when they were in public, and this time was no different. Probably because the nurse was there. 

Ian hugged him tight, making up for Mickey’s lack of reciprocation. All in good time, Ian thought to himself.

The nurse coughed, and Mickey let him go, a small smile hidden at the corners of his lips.

“Later, Mumbles.” 

After Mickey left the room, Ian could hear the nurse scolding him about closing the door.

“During visitor hours we do not allow the door to be fully closed.”

“Yeah, whatever lady. He’s not some axe murderer, okay? He’s not going to hurt me or some shit. He’s just a little sad...”

Ian couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation, and he was glad. Mickey was right. He didn’t want to be treated like some dangerous entity that hurts anything in it’s path, especially when that something could be Mickey. He would never hurt Mickey, ever. Just the thought brought tears to his eyes.

Of course, more tears. Ian rolled his eyes at himself. He hadn’t realized how emotional he had become... or maybe it’s the meds they're giving him. 

Oh well, he thought, I’m stuck here now. Stuck in the stupid psych ward without Mickey, family, or friends. 

Ian laid back down on the bed and attempted to turn off his mind so that he could get some sleep.

He sniffed the bed covers before drifting off, the smell of that familiar cheap cologne and cigarette smoke from Mickey soothing him to sleep.

****

Mickey fell asleep that night with flashbacks of the day the Gallagher family decided it was time for Ian to go to the hospital.

They knocked on the Milkovich door early that morning. Mickey was still in bed with Ian.

Even though the redhead wouldn’t talk to him, Mickey insisted on sleeping and staying with him in that bed as much as possible. 

He and Mandy would try to coax him to eat and drink every few hours. The younger boy rarely responded. 

Apparently Mandy had officially called Fiona a few days after Mickey had fought for Ian to stay with him.

_He’s family. He’s staying with me._

As soon as he heard the knock on the door, Mickey jumped out of bed and ran into the living room. He already knew who it was.

“You bitch!” He shouted at Mandy.

“I had to call her, Mickey! We can’t let Ian die of dehydration. He hasn’t drank anything in days!” Mandy replied, desperately trying to get her brother to understand, “This is something you can’t save him from. We got to get him professional help.”

“She has a point, you know,” Svetlana added, rocking their baby in her arms. “Howdy Doody needz America doctor.”

Mickey pointed at both of them, “Fuck both of you. We were doing fine. He’s going to snap out of it soon, I can tell...”

Mandy opened the door. Fiona, Lip, and Debbie walked in, sullen eyed and silent.

Fiona spoke first, “We called Blue Creek Psychiatric Hospital. They’ll be expecting him.”

“No, no fucking way! You guys are not taking him away from me!” Mickey shouted, heading straight for his bedroom and slamming the door.

Mickey pulled open the curtains, letting the sun shine through the window.

Ian was sleeping in bed still, head barely poking out from under the covers.

Mickey gently pulled the covers off Ian and knelt down beside him. 

Ian was the most pale he had ever seen him in his life. Mickey had seen corpses with more life in them. Ian’s eyes were swollen red and purple from crying and sleeping for so long. 

Mickey ran his hands through Ian’s red hair, crying into his shoulder.

He knew it was time to let Ian go to the hospital, but he didn’t want him to go. Fuck, he did not want him to go.

Mickey felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Lip. 

He looked like he had been crying too, naturally. 

Mickey looked up at Ian’s older brother, “Okay,” he nearly whispered.

He turned to see Fiona and Debbie walk in the room.

“Okay,” he repeated, “Let’s take him.”

After that it took a lot of coaxing and a lot of carrying to get Ian into the car. 

Debbie was hysterical. Mandy wrapped her arm around the younger girl’s shoulder as Mickey and Lip carried Ian into the car.

The car ride to the hospital was silent, besides small talk exchanged between Lip and Fiona. 

Fiona looked into the rearview mirror with a small encouraging smile directed at Mickey.

Mickey didn’t notice. He had his head buried into Ian’s chest, crying silently.

****

When Mickey woke up the next morning, he finally decided on going through with the plan he had thought about in his head yesterday while he visited Ian.

When Ian mentioned how much he hated it at the psych ward, it nearly broke the older boy.

Mickey refused to let Ian go through what he was going through alone. Sure, he could visit the redhead everyday... but he still felt too detached from the boy he had grown to lo... well, grown to like a lot. 

He had a plan now though, all he needed was some help.

****

“Hey, twerp!” Mickey said to Carl as he walked into the Gallagher kitchen. 

Since Ian had been in the hospital, Mickey had been making daily trips to the Gallagher residence to check up on everything. With Lip in college and Fiona working again, Mickey made it his job to make sure Debbie, Carl, and Liam were okay.

Mickey didn’t know when he started becoming so compassionate... usually he would only do something like this if there was monetary compensation involved. Maybe he was doing it for Ian’s sake. Maybe he cared. Hm. 

Carl was the only one in the room. Perfect.

“We’re out of pancake mix if that’s what you’re looking for,” Carl answered as he munched on some cereal.

“I’m actually looking for you. I need you’re help with something,” Mickey said, wondering where his dignity had went to. He’s asking for help from a 12 year old for Christ’s sake.

“I’m listening,” Carl grinned, turning his head to face the grubby Milkovich standing behind the counter.

“I need you to tell everyone that I’m going to be gone for awhile.”

“Where are you going?”

“Can you keep your mouth shut if I told you?”

“For a price.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Look, I’m leaving you, Debbie, and Liam $600 until I get back so that you guys don’t have to worry about food and shit. Fiona usually gets home from work at 10:30 so I’m assuming after school you guys can fend for yourself until she gets home. Plus Lip should be coming home soon for Spring Break...”

“Where did you get $600?” Carl asked.

“Don’t worry about it. Now are you going to keep this secret or what?”

“Of course,” Carl replied. For the first time ever, the younger boy smiled at Mickey Milkovich, “You’re giving us money when you obivously don’t have to. You realize we have had to live on way less then we have now, right?”

Mickey shrugged. He knew that they would be okay regardless of him coming over and helping out, he just felt obligated to anyways. It was hard to explain. 

“Whatever, the thing is... I’m going to try and stay with Ian at the psych ward.”

Carl’s eyes widened, “Uhh how?”

“I’m not really sure yet... all I know is that I’m going to act crazy until someone takes me there. I just need you to help me.”

Carl thought for a second, then grinned, “I have an idea.”

Mickey scowled at younger kid’s devious expression, instantly regretting their conversation.

****

Mickey and Carl walked into a grocery store on the corner of Mark Street and Windsor Drive. It was in a middle class neighborhood, where most of the high-end Chicago citizens shopped. 

It was Carl’s idea.

“If you’re going to act like a retard in public, you gotta do it in a rich neighborhood. It bothers them more for some reason,” Carl said.

They stood outside of the store. A man in a business suit walked by, obviously glaring at the two dirty kids standing near the doorway. Mickey glared back, but then snapped out of it. He can’t mess this up. He needs to be with Ian, not in prison.

“Okay, let’s get this shit over with,” Mickey said, “and don’t forget your lines.” 

Both Mickey and Carl walked into the store as casually as they could. The manager at the register already had her eyes on them, clearly watching to make sure they didn’t steal anything.

They walked over to the detergent aisle where no one was browsing so that they could finalize the plan.

“If you tell anyone about this.. I swear I will..” Mickey threatened. 

Carl rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever, you’ll chop my head off or something. Just make sure that if you’re going to go through with this, you’re going to bring Ian home soon.”

Mickey nodded, “Yeah, I will.” He had to keep reminding himself that he was doing this for Ian, otherwise he was going to run out the store. 

“Okay,” Carl said grinning, “Time to go full retard.”

Carl backed away waited for Mickey to go.

Mickey closed his eyes. He was about to humiliate the hell out of himself. At least he wasn’t going to know anyone in the store since everyone in there was rich and shit... but still. He always did his best to lay low in public.

Socialization was never something Mickey was necessarily good at, especially when it came to strangers. What he was about to do was totally different and way outside of his comfort zone.

Oh well, here goes nothing.

Mickey opened his eyes and started running down the aisles and knocking everything in his sight onto the ground. He pushed over grocery carts and kicked down every table of food in sight. Some customers were running while others pulled out their phones. Mickey screamed as loud as he could, not stopping for one second to breathe or think. He allowed himself to let loose, pulling his shirt over his head and chucking it at some old lady who looked like she was about to faint. 

Carl’s mouth fell open in amazement. He had never thought he would see the day where Mickey Milkovich would pretend to be crazy in order to go to the psych ward just to be with his older brother. 

Through the midst of everything, Carl had almost forgotten his job. He immediately ran over to the closest employee and shouted, “That’s my cousin! He just got home from the psych ward! Someone call the police!”

After a few minutes, Mickey finally fell to the ground. Three employees were holding him down with Carl standing behind them.

As soon as the police showed up, Carl ran over to them.

“That’s my cousin! He just got released from Blue Creek Psychiatric Hospital. He seemed fine this morning!” He felt like he was being a horrible actor, but it seemed like everyone was buying it.

One of the police officers went over to handcuff Mickey while another one accessed the damage of the grocery store.

“You said your cousin is mentally ill?” one of the officers asked Carl.

Carl nodded looking over at Mickey, “Yeah. He might need to be sent back to the crazy house.”

The officers ended up asking Carl a bunch of questions, which was exactly what Mickey was hoping for. The police led Mickey to the cop car while they finished asking Carl the questions.

Is your mother or father here? No. How old is he? 18. How long has he been in the hospital? 3 weeks. What’s his name? Mickey Milkovich.

To both Carl’s and Mickey’s relief, the cops had not recognized the last name. If they would have, their cover would have been blown.

Earlier that morning Mickey was explaining to Carl what would happen.

“If I do this, the cops will have no choice but to drop me off at the hospital since you're going to be the one to say I just got out of their. Because I’m 18 they don’t need my parent’s permission for anything. This plan might be crazy, but it might actually work. Ian told me this how some people wind up in psych wards. We might have a chance.”

Everything ended up working out just as planned. Mickey was driven straight to Blue Creek and admitted. 

Carl ended up getting dropped back off at the Gallagher residence by the police, nearly giving Fiona a heart attack.

“What the heck happened this time, bud?” She asked, concerned.

Carl shrugged, “They thought I was shoplifting. Turns out it was some other kid.”

Carl kept his promise and and kept his mouth shut.

****

Ian was laying in bed when he heard a familiar voice shouting from down the hall.

“Get the fuck off me!” 

It was Mickey. Ian turned over and looked at the alarm clock on his night stand and saw that it was almost two. Visiting hours weren’t until four. 

Maybe Mickey wanted to see him sooner? Ian thought. But why couldn’t he wait two more hours?

“I want to see the president! Where is the President?”

Mickey’s voice again shouting. It sounded like he was struggling. 

Ian ran out into the hallway to find three nurses trying to hold Mickey still.

“Sir, we need you to calm down otherwise we will sedate you,” Ian heard one of the nurses say.

As soon as Mickey saw Ian standing in the hallway, he immediately calmed down. 

“There’s the president,” Mickey pointed at the redhead.

Ian was so lost. What the fuck was Mickey doing?

One of the nurses walked over to Ian, “Do you know this man?”

Ian took a long look at Mickey, debating on whether or not to say yes or no. The nurse from yesterday was not around and yesterday was the first time Mickey had visited the hospital since Ian was admitted. No one would recognize him. 

One head shake from Mickey and Ian made his decision, “No, ma’am. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

The nurse nodded and looked back over at the other two nurses who were still holding Mickey, “Okay, put him in room 236 for now. Mickey, I will be back with your paper work in a few minutes.”

Ian remained in the hall while the nurses put Mickey in the room opposite of him. Mickey grinned at Ian before the door to room 236 closed.

Ian stood there, motionless, wondering what the fuck just happened. 

****

Ian waited an hour before barging into Mickey’s room demanding an explanation.

Mickey left his door unlocked, expecting Ian’s company.

When Ian finally walked in, the older boy was in the process of changing into the clothes given to him by the hospital.

Mickey pulled on his shirt as the younger boy stood in the doorway. Ian clenched his jaw and glared at him, debating on whether or not he should kill him.

Mickey spoke first, “So what’s the food like in this joint?”

Before Mickey could even process what happened, Ian shoved him into the wall with full force, nearly knocking the Milkovich off his feet. It was definitely not the erotic kind shoving into walls thing Ian did to him the day of his son’s christening. It fucking hurt.

“You. Fucking. Idiot.” Ian nearly growled into Mickey’s face, eyes punishing.

Mickey glared right back. He wasn’t expecting this much anger from the redhead. 

“What? You’re angry because I want to be with you, Ian?” Mickey asked, sounded much more deflated than he wanted to let off. 

“No, I’m angry because you didn’t tell me!”

“If I would have told you, you would have stopped me from doing it!”

“If I wanted to stop you, I would have done it in the hallway when they asked if I knew you!”

“What the fuck is the big deal, then? I’m here now.”

Instead of answering, Ian pulled Mickey towards him and slammed their lips together, hard and rough.

Mickey, surprised, brought his hands up toward Ian and held on to his red hair, fingers curling through the short locks.

Finally after a few moments, the younger boy pulled away. He had tears in his eyes.

Mickey studied his face, suddenly full of concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Why did you do this? Why did you come here?” Ian asked, eyes searching.

“I told you, I don’t want you to go through this alone...” Mickey replied, looking down at his old pair of sneakers.

Ian leaned forward and kissed his forehead, “Thank you.”

****

“So how the hell did you get in here, anyways?” Ian asked, resting his head on Mickey’s lap.

Mickey was sitting against the bed post, resting his hands in Ian’s hair.

“You know that Grocery store over on Mark Street where my cousins and I used to B&E all the time?”

“Yeah...”

“Well, I may or may not have ran around the entire store shirtless throwing cereal boxes at everyone and raving about the president.”

Ian shot up, facing the older boy.

“You did WHAT?”

“This doesn’t ever leave the room, got it? I already came out to the entire neighborhood pretty much saying that I like to suck your dick, I don’t want ‘the guy that went psycho in a grocery store’ added to the list of reasons why everyone wants to beat my ass.”

“Nobody hates you, Mick. You told me that everyone in the Alibi were cool with it,” Ian said, trying to be comforting. 

He tried to suppress a giggle at the thought of Mickey running around a supermarket, acting like a crazy person. That would probably explain why Mickey had asked him yesterday about how people end up in psych wards. Thank God he didn’t mention the guy that tried to eat his dog in the park...

“Yeah, well I’m sure Terry is going to have an army of homophobes after us as soon as he gets out of the can again,” Mickey sighed.

Terry. What would he have to say about his son, who, despite the endless times he had been beaten as a kid for even looking at other boys, was willing to get admitted into a psych ward just to be with his boyfriend.

“Yeah, well, don’t worry about it. We don’t have to be afraid of him anymore,” Ian replied, laying his head back down on Mickey’s lap.

Ian turned over so that he was looking up at Mickey, “So, how did they know to take you here? Usually they take you to the county jail first.”

Mickey rubbed his eyes, “I may or may not have gotten some help from your brother...”

“Lip?”

“Carl.”

“Carl?!” 

“He acted like my cousin. He told the cops that I had just got released from here,” Mickey replied, feeling his dignity slip farther and farther away as the conversation continued. 

“Sounds like the dumbest idea ever, Mick. There are so many things that could have went wrong. You could of went to jail, you could have been shot at. I mean, maybe you would’ve ended up here, but not on my floor. Then what?”

“Everything worked out alright, didn’t it? So quit your bitchin,” Mickey said. After thinking about it for a second, he realized that maybe his idea wasn’t so great... but hey, at least he’s there now. That’s all that matters.

"By the way, you realize that you can voluntarily admit yourself into a psychiatric ward, right? You don't have to cause a scene in public first..." 

Mickey looked up, "What?!"

Ian laughed, "What do you think this place is, prison?"

"Wait, are you trying to tell me that I didn't have to do anything besides walk in here and admit myself?"

"Yep."

"Fuck," Mickey said, internally facepalming. Why did he do everything the hard way?

"The fact that you did all of that for me makes me feel real special though, if that's any consolation. I'm amazed that everything actually worked out... maybe you’re my guardian angel or something,” Ian sighed, looking up at Mickey. 

Mickey looked down at Ian and frowned, “In that case, you’re screwed.”

“Maybe I am,” Ian smiled, “As long as you’re the one doing the screwing.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and tried to hide his grin but it was no use, Ian saw it anyways.

Ian looked at the clock, “You better get outta here. The nurses come around and check the rooms once every hour. I don’t think they’ll react well with you sleeping with the president.”

Mickey grumbled, “Yeah whatever. After we get out of here we are never mentioning this to anyone. I already threatened Carl to keep his mouth shut...”

Ian laughed, “Whatever you say, Mick.”

****

“Checks.”

“Yeah, hi. I’m still alive and I haven’t killed anyone. See you in an hour,” Mickey grumbled at the nurse.

It was later in the evening and Mickey had been itching to go see Ian again all day.

The rules were pretty lenient for the patients at the hospital. They could hang out in each others rooms or go watch tv in the “living room” anytime they wanted. 

Mickey knew that eventually he was going to have to see the doctor on duty and go to group sessions and God knows what else.

Pretty soon they would even be forcing him to join an art and dance classes hosted by the hospital...

Fuck that, Mickey sighed. He’s here to be with Ian. Everything else was just stupid stuff he’ll have to deal with in order to stay where he is.

Mickey crossed the hall and walked into Ian’s room.

The younger boy was laying in bed, facing the wall.

Mickey’s heart dropped. He looked just like he did when he had ahis first depressive episode last week at his house.

“Ian...” Mickey called out quietly.

No answer.

“Ian, it’s me. Mickey. Are you okay? Should I get a nurse?”

Ian turned over slowly, face pale and eyes swollen.

“The emptiness is coming back...” Ian whispered.

Mickey almost couldn’t hear him. He went over to the bed and stroked Ian’s back gently.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. I promise. It’ll pass. Let me go get a nurse and...”

Ian interrupted, eyes wide and panicked as he snatched Mickey’s arm, “Don’t... please don’t. Just don’t leave. I need you here.”

Mickey nodded, “Okay. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The older boy laid down with Ian, pulling the covers around both of them. He nearly wrapped his entire body around Ian’s.

Ian closed his eyes and shuddered while Mickey tickled his back with soft touches and pressed his lips to his neck.

This is exactly what Mickey needed. He needed to be there when Ian was like this. He needed to be there. He couldn’t imagine sitting at home watching tv while Ian lay in bed depressed like this. He couldn’t bare it. 

They laid there like that for awhile. Mickey was able to slip out of the room when the nurse came around to do checks again. On his was back to his room, he walked over to the nurse.

“The guy in room 235 doesn’t seem to be feeling good. Get someone to check on him, will ya?” Mickey asked, trying his best to be polite.

He knew getting caught in bed with Ian could get them both in trouble, so the next best thing he could do was get a doctor to watch over Ian when he couldn’t.

Mickey spent the rest of his night pacing in his room, watching and waiting for the doctors to come and go from Ian’s room. 

****  
“Anyone see Mickey around?” Mandy asked, walking into the Gallagher house without knocking. 

Debbie and Carl shook their heads as they continued watching tv, un-phased by Mandy’s presence.

Fiona walked into the living room, “Hey Mandy. How’s the diner?”

“Miserable. Have you seem Mickey around? I havent seen him in a few days and I’m getting worried. I’ve checked in with everyone, even the Alibi, and no one seems to know where he’s at.”

Vee walked in the room behind Fiona, “Kev told me he’s been looking for him too. Last time he saw him he was taking a couple hundred bucks from the register. He left right after.”

“I know where he went,” Carl said casually, looking up from the tv. 

“Where?” Mandy asked, walking over to sit down on the couch.

“My memory is fuzzy. It might be cleared up with a fifty in my hand...”

“Carl this is serious! Tell Mandy where he is right now!” Fiona scolded.

Carl rolled his eyes, “Fine. He’s in the psych ward with Ian.”

“What do you mean ‘in’ the psych ward with Ian. Like visiting, right?” Mandy asked

“Nope. He got himself locked up with Ian,” Carl replied, looking back at the tv.

“Oh my God,” Fiona said, eyes wide, “How the hell did he manage that one?”

“He pretended to be a retard and knocked over everything in the grocery store. The police drove him to the hospital,” Carl answered. He took the remote from Debbie.

“Hey! That was mine!” Debbie whined, smacking her brother.

“We have to get him out of there,” Fiona decided.

“Why?” Vee asked,” Sounds to me like he did it so that he can take care of Ian. Might do the kid some good to stay off the streets for once.”

“I just hope my dad doesn’t find out about this...” Mandy added, getting up. 

“You’re welcome to stay for dinner, Mandy” Fiona said, “Lip brought home some food from his dinning hall job.”

Mandy shook her head, frowning as soon as she heard Lip’s name, “Uh.. thanks. I better not though. I got to go, uh, bye.”

As soon as Mandy shut the door, Fiona looked at Vee, “You think her and Lip will ever talk again?”

Vee rolled her eyes, “Probably. Face it Fiona, you’ve adopted two Milkoviches into the family. First Mandy, now Mickey. Pretty soon you’ll have Terry on your doorstep.”

Fiona scowled at the thought, “I sure as hell hope not.”

****

“Mickey Milkovich, is that correct?” The therapist asked, looking at his clipboard.

“Yep.”

“Do you remember what happened in the grocery store the other day?”

“Uhhh not really,” Mickey lied.

He had absolutely no idea how to act toward the therapist. This was the part of his plan where he just figured things would work out on their own. Now that he’s sitting in a lounge chair facing some old fat dude with thick rimmed glasses, he was lost.

“Hm, I see. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?” The therapist asked, finally looking up from his papers.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Start with your favorite thing to do, or maybe your favorite childhood memory.”

Mickey paused, looking down at the floor. He’d been asked stupid shit like that back in middle school on the first day of classes, but he usually just blew them off. Favorite thing to do? Well it used to be walking around Chicago with his brothers, looking for things to mess up. But now it’s spending time with Ian.

“I like hanging out, I guess...”

“What about a good childhood memory?”

“Uh...” Mickey thought. Growing up in the Milkovich house wasn’t exactly the most pleasant thing in the world, but he did remember one time when he and Mandy stayed up all night playing Monopoly one summer when he was twelve. They had just gotten it for Christmas that year from their rich aunt that they barely ever saw. They played at least five times that night, and after that they snuck into the kitchen and stole ice cream from the freezer and went back to Mickey’s room and ate the entire tub while watching re-runs of Full House.

Mickey remembers a few summer nights like those, back before he and Mandy grew up and realized how shitty their lives really were.

Mickey refused to tell the therapist his favorite childhood memory, it was too intimate, too personal. Instead, he lied.

“My family trip to DisneyLand. Look doc, I’m not trying to sit here and whine about my life to you. Just toss over some pills and I’ll be on my way, alright?”

The therapist sighed, “I’m not licensed to prescribe you medication, that is the job of the psychologist. I am here for you to talk to though, and I hope you use me to share your past experiences so that maybe we can help you.”

Mickey shook his head, “I’m not feeling good. Can I go back to my room now?”

He didn’t have time for this shit. He needed to figure out a way to get out having to see the doctors so that he can keep a better eye on Ian.

“You’re going to be a tough one to crack, aren’t you?” the older man asked, smiling.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

“Yeah, sure. Later doc,” Mickey responded before jumping out of the chair and leaving the room, door slamming behind him.  
Mickey walked over to Ian’s room.

He opened the door slowly just in case he was asleep. He hadn’t seen him since yesterday when he told the nurses to go check on him.

He walked in on Ian sitting on the bed, writing.

“Whatcha writing?” Mickey asked.

“Thoughts. Ideas. I went to your room earlier and you were gone.”

“Yeah, they’re making me see a therapist and shit. I’m not craz...” Mickey stopped himself.

Mickey thought about how Ian probably felt about being in the psych ward. He probably hated the label “crazy” as much as Mickey did. He knew that Ian wasn’t crazy, though. Mickey has seen crazy before, and Ian definitely didn’t fit the bill.

He wasn’t sure exactly what to call Ian. Sad? Happy? Depressed? Manic?

Maybe just... interrupted. 

Ian was just interrupted, that’s all.

Ian looked up from his notebook, grinning, “They’re finally letting me have pencils now. They figured I wasn’t going to stab myself or anything I guess...”

“You’re not going to stab yourself, are you? You had me worried yesterday... I don’t like seeing you sad like that,” Mickey said quietly. He sat on the bed beside Ian.

“Of course not, Mick. I don’t know what that was yesterday. It just kind of happens sometimes. I started feeling that way in the army awhile back. I thought I was just homesick...”

“Did you ever miss me when you were gone?” Mickey asked, trying to sound casual about it. He’d been wanting to know for the longest time, but was too afraid to ask. He would’ve understood completely if Ian didn’t. They didn’t exactly end on a happy note before Ian left for the army.

Instead of answering, Ian smirked. “Here, I wrote something about you. Can I read it to you?”

Mickey nodded, curious, “You didn’t write some sappy love poem, did you?”

Ian rolled his eyes before pulling Mickey in for a quick, chaste kiss.

Ian cleared his throat,

_“I found him in a moment of desperation,_  
 _frantic and rushed._    
 _Pulling down each other’s pants,_  
 _voices  soft and hushed._    
 _I found him again behind the cooler,_  
 _blood running through our veins._    
 _This time inside the dugout,_  
 _shotgunning beer and leaving stains._  
 _Next time was behind the bleachers,_  
 _heart pounding like never before._  
 _The last time was interrupted,_  
 _destroyed by some Russian whore._    
 _Perhaps this feeling in my chest  is not some mistake._  
 _Perhaps this feeling in my chest  is for his to take.”_

Ian looked up from his notebook shyly, afraid to see Mickey’s expression.

“I wrote it in bootcamp, when I was really missing you,” Ian said, finally looking at Mickey.

Mickey looked stunned, and he was.

“You made that... about me?”

Ian smirked shyly, “Yeah, I was just thinking about all the times we’ve had together... most of which ended in some sort of sex. I don’t know, I hope it’s not stupid... I’m sorry.” 

Before Ian realized what was happening, Mickey was on top of him, pinning the younger boys arms behind his head on the bed.

Ian looked up at him, smiling once he knew what was going on. 

“We have 40 minutes until the nurse comes around and does checks,” Ian laughed.

Mickey looked down with Ian beneath him, “Think you got enough energy in ya?”

Ian rolled his eyes, “That was your passive way of asking ‘are you sure you want to do this?’ right? Well, the answer is yes. Fucking yes, I want to fuck you. You promised me the other day that you wouldn’t treat me like some fragile thing, are you going to keep that promise?”

Mickey smirked down at the younger boy, hands holding Ian’s wrists. “Of course I will.”

Ian grinned, “Good, then fuck me like I’m invincible.”

Mickey laughed before slamming his lips into Ian’s, breathing hard and fast. 

Ian arched his hips upward, craving that familiar friction he’s missed since being admitted into the hospital. Mickey responded with a soft moan, eyes opening to see Ian watching him with dark eyes.

Mickey looked away shyly before pulling off his shirt and tossing it onto the floor. As he went to undo the strings on his hospital pants, Ian stopped him.

“Let me,” he nearly growled at the older boy.

Mickey let go of the strings before Ian lunged forward causing Mickey to fall backward, head at the end of the bed. Next thing he knew Ian had his teeth gnawing the strings loose, his hot wet mouth breathing onto Mickey’s dick through the pants. The dark haired boy threw his head back, “Christ, Ian...”

Ian grinned and once he got the strings loose, he mouthed over his pants until Mickey’s groin area was soaking wet from Ian’s warm mouth.

Mickey was nearly gone by then, trying his hardest not to jerk his hips rapidly forward into the younger boys mouth.

Just when Mickey thought his self restraint was going to fail him, Ian finally pulled off both of their pants and boxers, making them both naked and exposed. They laid there for awhile, just touching each other. Hands running down each others backs. Legs entwining with legs. Lips grazing collar bones and shoulders.

Ian leaned down to kiss Mickey’s eyes back open, before pulling the older boy on top of him.

Mickey was once again looking down at Ian, this time smiling ridiculously.

“You look, wow..” Mickey said before leaning down and pecking Ian on the lips softly. 

Ian. His Ian. Laying beneath him. Sweat running down his forehead from the heat of their kissing and touching. His cheeks red and freckled. His flaming red hair damp and curly. His pupils dilated, eyes filling up with lust.

That was something Mickey could get used to seeing everyday.

Ian blushed at the sudden attention from Mickey’s gaze and squirmed beneath the older boy.

Mickey slowly rocked his hips into Ian’s, cocks slipping and fuck the friction might make him cum right now. Mickey dove right into Ian’s chest, teeth biting and sucking at Ian’s nipples, making the boy squirm and moan even more. 

He slowly ran his fingers from the redhead’s shoulders down to his thighs, stopping every so often to pinch the sensitive skin at Ian’s sides. Ian was jerking his hips hard into thin air, making Mickey’s already leaking cock twitch with want.

“Fuck me, Mick, please. I need you to fuck me,” Ian breathed out, panting in between words. 

Mickey continued to mouth at his nipples until finally kissing his way down to Ian’s cock. Mickey took him into his mouth all at once, moaning from the sensation of Ian’s thickness filling his entire mouth because fuck he missed this so much. He let his tongue do most of the work while Ian grabbed his dark hair with curled fingers, urging Mickey to go deeper.

“Mick, I’m gonna... fuck.”

Mickey pulled away before spitting on his fingers and pushing two of them into Ian’s asshole without warning. Ian made it clear to him that he didn’t want to feel fragile, and fuck if Mickey wasn’t going to keep his promise.

Ian nearly sat up, hands reaching for Mickey’s shoulders while he threw his head back and tried to hold in a yelp. 

Mickey pushed him back down, slamming his lips into the younger boy’s, tongue burying deep inside his mouth, begging and pleading for Ian to be okay. To get better. To stay with him forever.

Mickey finally pulled his fingers out before lining himself up with Ian’s ass. 

Usually, any time they had sex, one would be behind the other. This time, Mickey wanted to see Ian. He wanted to hold him and watch him and remind him that he’s there. He’ll always be there.

Ian wrapped his legs around Mickey’s sides while Mickey leaned forward and pushed himself into Ian, slowly.

Mickey closed his eyes. Fuck, Ian was so tight. Mickey rarely ever fucked Ian. He always preferred to be a bottom, but damn was it nice to have Ian hot and warm and tight and all around him, Mickey buried deep inside him.

Ian could nearly hear Mickey’s thoughts. He pulled Mickey’s head down and groaned in his ear, “I want you to watch me cum.”

Mickey pulled away to look at Ian, eyes widened by Ian’s words. He grinned, “Kinky, Gallagher.” 

Mickey jerked his hips forward, burying himself deep inside Ian before almost pulling out and slamming his cock inside him again. 

Ian kept his eyes on the older boy the entire time, mouth opening and closing through each push and pull of Mickey’s body. Mickey did his best to reciprocate the eye contact, but he always had a habit of closing his eyes when he wanted to cum. This time, however, he was going to try his best to keep his eyes on Ian the whole time, because that was what Ian wanted.

After awhile Mickey finally found the spot in Ian that made the younger boy lose it, causing him to shake and reach for Mickey’s back, fingernails dragging sharp against his skin. Mickey kept his cock in that same spot, pushing himself as deep as he could go before Ian was pinned down onto the bed as much as he could go.  
Ian lost his voice, unable to contain what he was feeling. Instead, he breathed hard and fast into Mickey’s ear, tickling his earlobe and urging him to go harder.

“I’m gonna cum... fuck,” Ian breathed out before throwing his head back onto his pillow, arching his hips as much as Mickey’s weight on him would allow. Mickey watched the younger boy come undone, Ian’s eye’s full of love and trust and lust and everything else. 

Mickey came seconds later, watching Ian’s red swollen lips open and close, gasping for air. Mickey let out a loud moan, completely destroyed.

Ian leaned forward and kissed Mickey through his climax, soft yet hard at the same time, thanking him for everything he has done and reminding him that he isn’t broken.

After that Ian and Mickey laid in the twin bed, Mickey still inside Ian, their bodies entwined and lazy. 

Mickey rested his head on Ian’s chest, one arm around his torso and the other one behind Ian’s neck. His fingers twirled and played in the red damp hair.

Finally, after a few minutes of lazy silence, Ian opened his eyes and looked over at the older boy, “Thank you.”

Mickey looked up from Ian’s chest, “Ian, you don’t have to thank me for sex. I’m not some prostitute or...”

Ian laughed, “No, I meant thank you for coming here. You stopped your entire life just so that you could be in here with me.”

Mickey shook his head, “Ian, I don’t want to have a life without you... I came here because you are my life now. That sounds really girly but everything before you was complete shit... and I just..”

“I love you.”

Mickey’s heart sank. The three words he had never heard before in his entire life. The three words he thought he would never hear from anyone. 

And there they were. 

Mickey stared at Ian, eyes wide with fear. He felt like a deer caught in headlights waiting to get hit by the car, only this time he wanted nothing more than to be impaled by it because he was more willing to handle getting ran over than handling the three words that trembled out of Ian’s lips. 

_Love._

He had no idea what love was until he met Ian. Until he started waiting for Ian after work at the liquor store. Until he started picking Ian up from school early so that they could do target practice with Mickeys brother’s gun under the Chicago Bridge. Until he started having sex with Ian not only to satisfy himself, but because he found the way that Ian’s eyes would flutter close when he came to be absolutely beautiful. Until he kissed Ian in the moving-van, heart pounding and adrenaline rushing fast. Until he kicked that geriatric viagroid’s ass after seeing him try to take Ian away. Until Ian did go away, leaving Mickey heartbroken. 

Until now, after everything they have been through. 

“I love you too,” Mickey replied, eyes honest and heart pounding.

Ian pulled the older boy close, their lips brushing softly before leaning his forehead with Mickey’s. 

_I know you do._

****

“Hello officers, how can I help you?” the nurse at the front desk asked.

“Do you guys have a Mickey Milkovich currently admitted?” the policeman asked. He already knew the answer.

“Yes, he was admitted a few days ago. Is everything okay?”

“Where is he?”

“Room 236.”

****

Two police officers busted through Ian’s door.

Mickey’s head shot up, arms letting go of Ian. Ian sat up, petrified.

“Well, well, well. Mickey Milkovich. We checked your room and you were missing. Didn’t expect to find you in here... like this.”

Mickey felt like he was going to throw up. He recognized the cops. They were the one’s that always show up when Terry breaks his probation. They hated the Milkoviches. Every single one of them, especially Mickey. The question is, what the fuck could the cops possibly want from him this time?

“What the fuck do you want?” Mickey spat, sitting up and blocking Ian as if her were in danger. The movement was subconscious, but Ian noticed. 

Any time before this Mickey would have been terrified with being caught in bed with another dude. Times have changed... and this wasn’t just any dude. It was Ian Gallagher. His Ian. 

“We got a crime report the other day from the Chicago Police Department about you ‘having a psychotic episode' in a grocery store. Lucky for you the cops on duty did not recognize you, but we did. Mickey, you’re under arrest.”

Mickey rose from the bed, not even caring that he was naked. He couldn’t see or think. Anger overcame him. Ian grabbed his arm in warning. 

“You can’t arrest me for what I did... and you can’t fucking arrest me while I’m in a psych ward either,” Mickey said, voice low and growling.

“We’re not arresting you for that, but we are arresting you for the engagement ring you stole a few days ago from a man outside of the jeweler on 24th avenue.”

The older of the two officers held up a silver ring with small white diamonds circling the perimeters, “We found this in your room across the hall.”

Mickey felt like the entire world was shattering beneath him. His legs were wobbly and thought that they were going to give out any minute. 

He hadn’t planned on stealing the ring. 

After Ian had come back from the army, he and Mickey grew close again. Close enough to where Mickey had decided that he didn’t want the younger boy to ever feel like Mickey didn’t want him again... hence the reason why Ian left for the army in the first place.

He came across the ring one day on his walk to the Alibi. He had decided to take the long way, causing him to walk down 24th Avenue. 

24th Avenue was on the nicer side of their shitty east side Chicago neighborhood and had many small shops. 

When Mickey walked past the the jeweler’s, a ray of light from the window caught his eye. He turned to look and saw that it came from a beautiful silver ring resting on a velvet red pillow on the other side of the window. 

As soon as he saw it he knew it had to be Ian’s. That was the ring he was going to give him someday when he asks the redhead to marry him. It had to be.  
Mickey stood at the window staring at it for what seemed like forever. He was mesmerized by it. Not only did Mickey think about how beautiful it would look on Ian’s freckly finger, but he also thought about what the ring means for them. It means that Mickey doesn’t plan on leaving him, even now that he’s bipolar. It means that Ian is the most important thing in the older boy’s life. Not only that, but it’s a big “fuck you” to everyone who has ever doubted them or denied them of allowing to be who they are. 

Mickey eventually returned the next day on his way to work again. This time he was going to walk into the store and ask for the price.

When Mickey got to the store, however, the ring was no longer in the window.

Confused, Mickey walked in and went straight to the Jeweler.

“Hey, where’s that ring that was in the window yesterday?”

The jeweler pointed over to a man at the end of the counter, “He’s buying it.”

Mickey looked over and saw a man in a navy blue, tailored business suit holding the ring. Mickey tried to blink away the disappointment, hoping that he could talk the man out of buying it.

When Mickey walked over to him, the man gave him a disgusted look, “Can I help you?”

Mickey, trying his best to be nice, replied, “Yeah, I was hoping I could possibly buy that ring off you.”

“Why?”

“Because I need it for someone very important to me,” Mickey responded honestly. 

“Tough. I’m buying it so my ex wife thinks I’m already remarried. Sorry about your luck...” the man said, eyeing Mickey down, “you probably couldn’t afford it anyways.”

At that point Mickey was fuming. Not only was the guy buying the ring for selfish purposes, but he also just insulted him.

It took all of Mickey’s strength to mumble fuck you and leave the store without knocking the dude’s teeth out.

Mickey stood outside the store, angry and and ready to fight. That ring was meant for Ian, and fuck all if he wasn’t going to make sure that it will ends up on Ian’s finger someday.

He waited in the ally near the Jeweler until the man with the ring passed by on his car. That’s when Mickey attacked. 

He looked around before pulling out his handgun. It wasn’t loaded, but the man didn’t need to know that.

The man didn’t put up a fight. He nearly threw the ring at Mickey after threatening to call the police.

He wasn’t worried about the police at the time. There were no witnesses around, at least so he thought.

The other police man spoke again, “A security camera attached to the crosswalk light caught the whole thing, Mickey. Get you’re clothes on, you’re coming with us.”

Mickey shook his head, “No. I’m not going, you can’t take me away from here!”

Which he was right. You can’t just arrest people while they’re locked up in a psych ward. There had to be some law against it.

“Yes we can. There’s a psychiatric department in the prison. You’re being transferred there.”

_Fuck._

“No, no. I’m not going,” Mickey turned around, looking at Ian. 

Ian had tears in his eyes. Ian had remained silent the whole time, still stuck on the fact that Mickey had an engagement ring waiting for him. 

“Mickey, come on. Don’t make this difficult for us,” the older cop sighed.

“Don’t take him, please,” Ian almost whispered. The cops didn’t hear him, but Mickey did.

“Ian this wasn’t supposed to happen like this... I fucked up really bad this time.”

“Clothes. NOW!” 

Both of the boys pulled on their clothes slowly, Ian watching Mickey stare at him, eyes red and glossy from impending tears.

After Mickey’s clothes were on, the officers handcuffed him.

“You have the right to remain silent, anything you say-”

“-NO! MICKEY! PLEASE, DONT...!” Ian ran towards the older boy, heart breaking with each step.

He had time for one small kiss that barely landing on Mickey’s mouth before the other cop pulled him away. 

At that point Mickey had lost it, tears falling.

The nurses held Ian back as the cops dragged Mickey to the cop car outside of the hospital entrance.

Mickey could hear Ian calling his name the entire way.

He failed him. He had one fucking job and that was to look after Ian, and he failed him.

****

Ian was completely at a loss for words. He laid in his bed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering why the hell the world was against him.

Half of him demanded an explanation as to why in the hell Mickey stole a ring and the other half of him was in shock that someone who was laying in bed with him only two hours ago could now be gone for months, even years.

The police officer said engagement ring. The only explanation was that the ring was meant for Ian. Was it meant for Ian? When had he intended on giving the ring to him?

He needed answers. 

He wasn’t necessarily angry at the older boy. Stealing was a normal part of life when growing up in the ghettos of Chicago. He was just scared and confused and heartbroken and lonely. Now he was stuck in the hospital not knowing if Mickey was safe. 

With Mickey gone, the empty feeling he’d been having was already starting to come back.

Before Mickey had shown up at the hospital, Ian figured he would make it. His family would visit him regularly and eventually, when things got better, he could come home. 

Now he wasn’t so sure of anything. 

****

Ian got a phone call a week later. The nurse handed him the phone.

“Ian?”

“Mickey?! Thank God! I’ve been so worried about you!”

Mickey held the prison phone tighter, heart clenching.

“How are you feeling?”

“On and off. The doctors said I could come home soon though.”

Mickey smiled into the phone, “Good.”

“Uh... how long?”

“One year. 3 months if I stay on good behavior.”

“You’re an idiot for stealing that ring.”

“I know... I don’t deserve y-”

“Don’t say that. You’re an idiot because you think you need a ring to prove your feelings for me. You don’t need to do that, Mick.”

“I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t going anywhere...”

“I already know that. I trust you... and I’m coming to visit you as soon as I get out of here. I’m not leaving you either, Mick. Promise.”

Mickey grinned, “Yeah, okay. Just don’t get yourself into trouble just to join me here in jail, deal?”

Ian laughed, “Deal.”

“Miss you.”

“I miss you too, Mickey Mouse.”

“Nope. No way. Milkoviches don’t get nicknames, especially stupid ones like that.”

“They do now, Mick Mick.”

Mickey rolled his eyes on the other line. The guard waved her hands telling him to hang up, “Look, I gotta go. The guard says my time is up. I'll call you as soon as I can.”

Mickey paused before adding, “I love you.”

Ian smiled into the phone, “I love you too.”

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Comments/Kudos are greatly appreciated!  
> :)
> 
> *Let me just say I am pretty damn proud of the poem I wrote in the middle of this fic. I am complete shit at poetry and somehow Ian's poem turned out okay. 
> 
> Prompts are always open on my tumblr: http://simonsgrandpasweaters.tumblr.com/


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